


Every time that you get undressed (I hear symphonies in my head)

by StupidFlightyBullshirt



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), F/M, Loving Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Trans Crowley (Good Omens), Trans Female Character, non-binary Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:26:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StupidFlightyBullshirt/pseuds/StupidFlightyBullshirt
Summary: This is shameless Ineffable Husbands smut with gratuitous fluff. Crowley is female-presenting here, I just felt it worked with what little story there is here. Aziraphale is the softest top in existence, and Crowley has the most obvious praise kink ever.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 133
Collections: Top Aziraphale Recs





	Every time that you get undressed (I hear symphonies in my head)

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally my first ever smut I've written, so please be gentle?  
> In all seriousness please feel free to give constructive criticism on this, I always want to be better!  
> Anways, please enjoy!

Aziraphale had always had a... complex relationship with music. Ever since the first humans had discovered the joys of rhythm and singing, Aziraphale had enjoyed and encouraged it. Some would argue that Aziraphale had been a little more than encouraging with the invention of string instruments, but the lyre did mark such a vast improvement on the aggressive drumming the humans had been relying upon before.  
  
Of course, with the progression of time, the melodies and instruments had changed, although the humans behind them hadn't so much. Aziraphale had been in Vienna at the same time as Mozart, lending his ear to the young genius as he stayed up those long nights penning his masterpieces. The attitude of the more modern 'popular music stars' was eerily reminiscent of that of Amadeus. Aziraphale's familiarity with Amadeus did not compare to his relationship with anyone current; although that could have something to do with his general dislike of the noise that passed for music in the 21st century.  
  
Broadly speaking, Aziraphale did not listen to popular music, finding it much too abrasive for his tastes, however, the occasional song did take his fancy. For example, one such song was playing in his head at this moment.  
  
This moment could be described by some as the culmination of a 6000-year courtship. Crowley stood before him, clumsily undoing the buttons of her blouse, occasionally flitting her eyes up to meet Aziraphale's. Aziraphale himself was reclining on his bed, watching her with hooded eyes. Each piece of skin that Crowley revealed was devoured by Aziraphale's eyes. As Crowley reached the last button, the string orchestra playing in Aziraphale's head reached its crescendo, and as she slipped the blouse off her shoulders, a chorus of trumpets joined in. Goosebumps ran up his arms as he gazed in wonder at a shirtless Crowley, standing there in her skin-tight jeans and black bralet. Inelegantly, Crowley slipped off the straps and swivelled the bra around, so the clasps were at her front, and undid it, sending it to the floor with the blouse.  
  
It was at this point that she looked up, making proper eye contact with Aziraphale for the first time since she had begun undressing. The hunger she found there seemed to surprise her. She had clearly been worried about how Aziraphale would react to her more... feminine attributes. She needn't have bothered, however, as Aziraphale was making it exceedingly apparent that he was interested in _Crowley_ herself, whichever configuration she might come in. Although he previously had paid attention primarily to the 'male' form, it by no means precluded the possibility of him enjoying _this_ to the fullest extent possible. He glanced pointedly at Crowley's trousers before meeting her eyes once more.  
  
Crowley's hands fumbled for her belt buckle, sliding it out of the belt loops around her waist and beginning to slip the button through its hole. Aziraphale's gaze was riveted to her hands, watching their movements. Then came the graceless act of forcing the skinny jeans off. Crowley quickly lost patience and snapped her fingers, the trousers instantly joining the rest of her clothes on the floor. She stood there now in only a pair of black panties, matching the bralet. She hooked her fingers into the waistline and dropped them down her legs, stepping out of them and leaving them where they landed.  
  
She moved toward the bed, approaching Aziraphale, who was still reclined there, although the clenched fists and blown pupils gave away his calm facade. He stood up now, however, reaching forward and caressing along the line of Crowley's shoulders. He looked her up and down, before pulling her into a passionate kiss, letting his hands fall to her waist and holding her in place. Crowley whimpered and melted into the kiss, feeling the tension of being so exposed fall away. Her hands came up to rest on his chest, becoming all the more aware of the fact that he was still dressed, bowtie and all. She made a disgruntled noise into his mouth and slowly pulled away, tugging at his bowtie in the process. He huffed a laugh and clicked his fingers, his clothes miraculously appearing on a hanger by the door, fully pressed.  
  
He pulled Crowley into a tight embrace, bringing their lips together in a long kiss. He skimmed his hands down her back, resting them in the end on her arse cheeks, squeezing them slightly. She moaned throatily and held onto his back, enjoying the soft musculature she could feel there. She ran a fingertip down the line of his back where his wings would meet, were they on the physical plane, and felt him shudder, a ripple of pleasure spreading through him.  
  
He drew himself away and nudged her in the direction of the bed. "Lie down, my dear, and let me worship you."  
She lay down with her head on a pillow, legs spread, staring at him. He reached over her to grab another pillow and lifted her hips to slide it underneath. He moved to the end of the bed and lay down on his stomach, his face lining up perfectly with Crowley's crotch. Using both hands, he pulled her lips apart and ran his tongue up from her perineum to her clit. She jolted and her hands flew to Aziraphale's curly hair, holding him there.  
  
Aziraphale took his time, loving her in a way she had never expected to be loved. He sucked on her clit, fucked his tongue into her, mouthed his way up and down her lips; reducing her to a quivering mess. Her moans echoed in his ears, harmonising perfectly with the symphony already playing there. He found he had never heard anything closer to 'celestial harmonies' than Crowley's noises of pleasure.  
He brought her to orgasm twice this way, not giving her any kind of reprieve. He introduced his fingers shortly after her first climax and curled them just so to target that sweet spot just inside. Her grip on his head had tightened so as to be almost painful, the occasional tug causing him to groan and his cock to twitch in interest. As she came down from her second, he drew himself away and moved up her body, licking his lips just before diving down to kiss her passionately. She responded weakly, overwhelmed by the physical sensations and the angel above her.  
  
She gripped him by the hips and tugged him down, grinding his cock against herself, making the both of them release a breathy moan. She moved one hand down to fist his cock, stroking him lightly, teetering on the edge of not enough and too much. He gently pulled her hands away and held them against the bedspread, holding Crowley in position. He gave her wrist a stern look, warning against moving, and reached down, lining himself up with Crowley's entrance. He started by thrusting in and out quickly, in small increments, before finally bottoming out, his balls resting on her taint. He released a long, drawn-out sigh and hung his head, momentarily overcome by the feeling of being _inside_ Crowley, inside _Crowley_. Her toes were curled into the bedspread and her head was thrown back in rapture.  
"Beautiful." The word slipped out of him in a whisper. Like a prayer, a benediction. Crowley's whole body shuddered as she let out a groan, her hips thrusting upwards. Aziraphale smiled. He stretched out the hand not currently holding her wrist and held one of her breasts. It fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, so he squeezed lightly, interested in seeing the reaction it would garner. She sighed and shifted, pushing it into his hand. He rolled the nipple in between his fingers and began speaking. He was not fully aware of what he was saying, but he knew what he _wanted_ to say. He could only hope his lust-addled brain was translating it into comprehensible English. As he spoke, he began fucking her properly; deep, full-bodied thrusts that made her writhe beneath him.  
"Oh, my beautiful, darling Crowley. Look at you. You're doing so well, my dear. Look at you taking everything I'm giving you. You're so _good_ to me dearest."  
  
Crowley let out a strangled sound and began shaking, the movement of her hips becoming jerky and unpredictable. Aziraphale could feel her beginning to clench around him and sped up, wanting them to come as close to the same time as possible. Her amber-yellow eyes clenched shut as her body tensed. She let out a long, high pitched moan and fell bonelessly back down on to the bed, her eyes blinking open to blearily watch Aziraphale taking his pleasure. He was so close now, his fingers twitching around her wrist and breast. He had lost any rhythm to his fucking. He rammed into her all the way and stopped, spilling deep inside of her. She squirmed, enjoying the strange feeling.  
  
His whole body sagged and he pulled out of her. Dropping down onto the bed next to her, he rolled to face her. He smattered kisses across her face, still mumbling praise incoherently. She drew his lips to hers and kissed him, hoping to convey 6000 years of love and waiting and thanks and joy. He smiled into the kiss, feeling her love filling the room and beyond.  
  
"I... well... was that okay? For... for you, I mean?" Aziraphale asked. Crowley simply stared at him.  
  
"Alright? For m- what?! Are you seriously asking me, after three, _three_ , spectacular orgasms, if that was _alright_?!"  
  
"Oh. Well, yes. I suppose I am. I'm a little... hmmm... out of practice with the er... particular Effort you've made, and wanted to check in is all." A flush had spread across Aziraphale's face. Crowley noticed with interest that it spread down his neck to his chest. She pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat and chuckled.  
  
"Yes angel, that was very _alright_ ," Crowley lowered her eyes briefly before continuing, "I take it this particular Effort was _alright_ for you too?"  
  
"Of course Crowley! It's... well, it's you, isn't it? The rest doesn't make any sort of difference."  
Crowley smiled and nuzzled into Aziraphale's neck, settling in for a nice long cuddle (although demons _don't cuddle_ and he would deny doing so to anyone but Aziraphale). She started and lifted her head suddenly.  
  
"Wait a minute. What do you mean 'out of practice?!"


End file.
